


Understanding Your Creator

by FruitfulMind



Category: Red vs. Blue, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: RvB Season 14 Episode 24 AU, RvB Season 14 spoilers, Spoilers, what if Burnie spoke Spanish?, yeah we're all assholes here Lopez
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2016-10-18
Packaged: 2018-08-23 03:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8311957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruitfulMind/pseuds/FruitfulMind
Summary: (WARNING: Contains spoilers for Red Vs. Blue S14E24, you have been warned.) Just a little AU I threw together: What if Burnie did speak Spanish?





	

**Author's Note:**

> All translations provided by online services, fixed up to make a little more sense. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything looks wrong, feel free to tell me!

His wrench clicked onto the strange plastic device harshly, a metallic on metallic noise reverberating around the strange, small room. On the tiny screens in front of the robot, he saw glimpses of the Red and Blue idiots. He wondered if they were spying on them the entire time; how much did they know? All he had known was the idiots ran off, no doubt causing more mayhem, thus leaving Lopez to clean up after them.

 

The sounds of work drew a very curious man to the scene. One man known by his co-workers as Burnie Burns. Burnie stared into the room, wondering if someone was in there and messing around with the equipment. "Hello? Hey, is anyone in there?" He nudged the door open, the faint light shimmering through the crack. "Hey!" He announced, forcing himself into the room. What he saw before him was not what he was expecting. Quite the opposite actually, he was expecting to see Blaine, or another worker mucking about. Instead, stood a 5'10 man (robot?), wearing armor identical to Lopez's. "Oh my god!" He shouted, alarmed by the unknown person working on **_his_ ** Xbox.

 

The man jumped up from his spot, exclaiming, "¡Oh Dios mío!" (Translation: Oh my god!) He gripped the wrench tighter in his hand as he backed against the console table with a familiar, metal thunk. He hadn't heard the man come in, and was just as surprised as the other.

 

They stared at each other for a few seconds, Burnie's hand coming to his head as he felt it. "What the hell is happening in here," he muttered to himself. He wasn't drunk -- not yet at least. Nor did he feel he was coming down with something. But there, standing in front of him, was someone (something?) looking exactly like Lopez had, right down to the details of the chest piece.

 

Lopez would need to figure his way out of this one; he thought bitterly of Sarge's own incompetence that caused the problem with Lopez's language filter. There was only one thing that he could do: talk, and try not being a complete asshole. "El hombre que me creó trajo nos todos aquí, y ahora nos parece ser pegado. Quiero acabar mi misión que sabe que hicimos el mejor trabajo que podríamos posiblemente, y nunca comprometimos nuestra integridad. Ahora, después de catorce años, es hora finalmente de ir a casa." (Translation: The man that created me brought us all here, and now we seem to be stuck. I want to finish my mission knowing that we did the best work we possibly could, and we never compromised our integrity. Now, after fourteen years, it is time to finally go home.) He finished his speech, his wrench still in hand. He looked at it momentarily, then back at the man. The man didn't move a muscle, standing there with a confused look on his face. Lopez didn't expect him to understand, but it was worth a try. Gratuitously, Lopez awaited for his end at his creator's hands.

 

Burnie's eyes widened as he stared at Lopez, mouth still agape, and his eye crinkled with a confused expression. The events left him feeling perplexed. "Wow... wow dude, that's really deep. Has it really been fourteen years for you guys too? We never worked out an actual timeline." Burnie whispered, his mind trying to wrack how all of this was possible. There was no way the Spanish speaking Lopez was in front of him. If he was dozing off, he had to really work on his sleep schedule. Maybe Miles was right about him getting old. The two stood in another comfortable silence. Had Burnie said something wrong?

 

Though he wondered if it was just another fluke, Lopez spoke up, albeit cautiously. "¡Mierda! ¿Usted puede entenderme?" (Translation: Shit! You can understand me?)

 

"Uh... Yeah, I voice you- That sounds weird. Yes, I speak Spanish." Burnie breathed out, quickly exclaiming, "How is this possible?!" This had to be a weird fever dream caused by those idiots. Just like clock work, he heard Gus and Geoff running past the room, screaming bloody murder. A second passed, and he heard them running by again. What the hell was going on out there? What the hell was going on in here?

 

The man could actually understood all of what Lopez was saying. Lopez wondered if this was creator that had brought him to life? He remembered that this man, if he was his creator, was also the one who caused his life to be Hell.

 

"So... What are you doing here? You said something about about being _brought_ here, cuz I-- Goddamit!!" He suddenly shouted; it all made sense now. Miles and his stupid group must have done something. Now they had these Reds and... he wasn't too sure who else was here. He'd be happy to have a drink with Church, if he was. Instead, he was talking to Lopez in poorly afflicted Spanish.

 

"Nuestro transportador funcionó incorrectamente, y ahora aquí nos pegan." (Translation: Our transporter malfunctioned, and now we are stuck here.) Lopez said, looking back at the strange black box. It was the reason they were brought here, and now it was the reason they must return. Burnie also looked towards his Xbox and sighed. There was no way they would fix it that easily.

 

"Oh yeah, I always forget you can understand English." Burnie replied, moving to the console table. He flicked his eyes up the video on the monitors. "Has to be creepy, doesn't it? Knowing we know your every move." The man wasn't wrong, it was indeed creepy. But Lopez thanked him that this was the bottom line most creepiest thing that had happened to the red team -- bar Donut of course.

 

"Sí." (Yes) He answered, returning to work on the teleportation device. There were only a few more problems to fix with it, and they should be safe to return home. He heard footsteps running up to the room, at least three pairs of them. The idiots had come to ruin the special moment he was sharing with their creator.

 

"Lopez, are you nearly done with that!" Sarge asked, checking behind him. Simmons and Grif both were panting, the latter nearly keeling over on the spot.

 

Lopez watched them, grabbing for the teleporter. He looked down at the teleporter, muttering quietly, "Sí." Uncertainty rain through his wires. "Quiero permanecer." (Translation: I want to stay.) There was much more to learn about his creator. He didn't want to go back to the world where no one understand a word he said.

 

"Lopez," Burnie said, his brows furrowed as his expression turned serious. "You got to go home. Remember?" He reached for the Xbox, Lopez instead holding onto it with a vice like grip. He was stronger than Burnie had given him credit for, it was proving just a little more than difficult to wrestle it from him. "Lopez!" He shouted, gritting his teeth. "Give me the Xbox!"

 

"No!" Lopez said, wrestling it back from Burnie, the two still fighting over it as the three Reds and Blue watching, either unable to do anything, or not caring enough to intervene.

 

"Hey guys, look what I found!" Donut exclaimed, bringing in a platter. "I made some cocktails! Now, who wants some cock, and who wants some tail-" He gave a surprised yelp as Lopez was sent flying back into Simmons, the Xbox now safely in Burnie's hands. The drinks were then sent flying into the air; as if a trick by some sick minded god, their path was to none other than Burnie, soaking his Xbox once again; just as before, the familiar green glow filled the room.

 

Another less green glow entered their eyesight, the warm glow on sunlight basking down upon their armor. Shakingly, the five of them rose to their feet, taking the time to help each other up. Grif groaned as he fixed the bottom of his helmet. "Lets never speak of this again."

 

Some men didn't share his sentiments, Caboose exclaiming, "That was amazing! Can we do it again?!" The men shouted a collective veto of his idea, Caboose's excitement did not falter. Some weren't all that happy to be home; especially one lonely Spanish speaking robot.

 

Lopez sighed heavily, "Me encontré con nuestro creador; él me podía entender." (Translation: I met our creator; he could understand me.) There was still hope in his body that maybe, just maybe one of the others would understand him, and he wouldn't be talking to himself for another year.

 

"Tell me about it, Lopez!" Sarge said, cocking his gun. "Those no good enemies should be glad they're safe from us!"

 

Immediately, the feeling of hope disappeared. "Los odio a todos. Quiero volver." (Translation: I hate you all. I want to go back.) He looked to his side where the maroon and orange were bickering again, and the blue marine was being himself. There was a soft, green glow, similar to the one that transported them earlier. The creator stood in bewilderment as he looked around his new surroundings. Lopez felt something he could only understand as joy; perhaps his creators wished to end his suffering.

 

**Extended ending:**

"What the hell, you're the guy who was trying to fight Lopez!" Grif said, confused. Hadn't they fixed the whole issue? Why was this guy doing here?

 

"Yeah, well. I didn't want to spend my vacation in-- What the hell? Is this..." He spoke in wonder and bewilderment, "Valhalla? _The_ Valhalla?"

 

"Well... Yeah? What else would it be-- Wait! How'd you know that, better yet, where did you come from?!"

"I created you, well... Kind of created you. Geoff and Gus had some say in it. Especially why _you're_ so lazy," he replied to Grif, he turned to Simmons. "And you're so nerdy."

"Hey!" Simmons tried defending himself, but knew in his heart the man was right.

 

"¿Ha venido a salvarme de estos idiotas?" Lopez asked, dropping his wrench. He looked at the civilian; if he had eyes, there would be hope in him. He said nothing as his creator stared at him like a fish on dry land, watching as the man fixed his glasses and opened his mouth, only to close it once again.

 

"Yeah, uh..." The man replied sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry dude, I don't understand a word you're saying. But... yeah." He sighed, turning to Sarge, the two beginning a long discussion of who actually was leader here. Lopez stared at him, his mind blank. Why did every idiot here not understand Spanish? Why had his creator forgotten it?

 

Lopez knew two things: his creators wanted to torture him, and they were assholes.


End file.
